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Not enough time for a real life

If the others could see...
I am alight,
blue-jet flame turned
roaring white hot, through me,
straight up, out the top of my head,
burning the ceiling/roof of my car
in the other world,
while l'm here
racing down the 101.

If the others could see...
I am alight,
blue-jet flame turned
roaring white hot, through me, consider moving the first word - white hot, roaring through me, - it holds the rhythm better (providing it doesn't alter your meaning?)
straight up, out the top of my head,
burning the ceiling/roof of my car
in the other world,
while l'm here
racing down the 101.

And the fuel of my life
it runs lower.

I love this idea of being remote from material life while engaging with it. It made me think about things in my own life. Powerful stuff.

Just starting out on the adventure of poetry? Why not join us onPoetry Hillwhere you will receive one-to-one advice and suggestions for ways to work with your poem.

If the others could see...
I am alight,
blue-jet flame turned
roaring white hot, through me,
straight up, out the top of my head,
burning the ceiling/roof of my car
in the other world,
while l'm here
racing down the 101.

And the fuel of my life
it runs lower.

... Maybe cut "it".....

The imagery is intense... as a glassblower, a blue flame is coveted above all others... a blue flame is HOT, burning clean and pure... intense... OOoo.... anyway, when I am trapped somewhere... like, in traffic... I am creating new worlds, or new exquisite designs. new rhymes and poetic phrases in my tiny mind... not trapped in traffic at all, but inside my own world.... that is what your poem expressed to me... so, thanks for a cool read

Check out the exciting Poetry Hill !!

If you are a writer, reach a reader
If you are a fighter, teach a leader
If you are a lover, touch a leper
If this has helped you, thank you, reader

If you can read this, teach a thinker

Author: Lynn Loschky

Death leaves a heartache no one can heal,
love leaves a memory no one can steal....
Author unknown.

The first line very much seems to set this out as a response (albeit to person or persons unknown), and the title seems to indicate that as well. In my mind, the first line is redundant as the title covers that point. Plus, it sits somewhat at odds with what follows.

The issue I had was with a white hot blue flame. Both expressions give the idea of extreme heat. I see a blue flame as, well, a flame, whereas white hot is a heat intensity. I don't see the two as co-existing (unless the blue flame is making something white hot, in which case the phrasing needs to be adapted). Maybe just "blue-jet flame roaring through me" is enough?

The reference to "ceiling/roof" sits oddly. Cars have a roof, rooms have a ceiling. Just go with roof.

Jen- my meaning was turning the flame up. I hope it's not way off. Okay, I'm going to 'tweak'.. consider alternate layouts-positions. Right now, the rhythm is not there for me- can't hear it. I can't tell if it changes the meaning ( more coffee?) Maybe later. Thank you very much.

Fire- it must go. 't's what I said: 'it'. Thank you, Darling.

Sas- racing...yes! That's part of the point. All this rushing intensity. thank you.

Blue/white- I was hoping blue turned to white
roof/ceiling- I first thought 'roof' , second thought was a roof is the outside-but yes, shooting through the roof is how I'd spoken it. The / is odd. Thank you.

Thank you. I'll have to work on this. The image is strong/lasting enough to. So now, if I can get it right on 'paper'. Thanks again.

If the others could see...
I am alight,
blue-jet flame turned
roaring white hot, through me,
straight up, out the top of my head,
burning the ceiling/roof of my car
in the other world,
while l'm here
racing down the 101.

And the fuel of my life
it runs lower.

If others could see
jet- blue flame roaring
white hot, through me.... just a different way to say the same thing...

I am a tiny bit embarrassed, I got distracted by the imagery and overlooked the most intriguing part of your poem... "And the fuel of my life
it runs lower".... this, I feel is the real message, the heart of your poem.... Yes? .... No? I think I know what you are expressing, at least, I know what I FEEL when I read those last 2 lines....

Check out the exciting Poetry Hill !!

If you are a writer, reach a reader
If you are a fighter, teach a leader
If you are a lover, touch a leper
If this has helped you, thank you, reader

If you can read this, teach a thinker

Author: Lynn Loschky

Death leaves a heartache no one can heal,
love leaves a memory no one can steal....
Author unknown.